Greatness in the Little Things
by commonmadness
Summary: Maybe if they'd had a little more time, things would be different... but then, time was never really on their side. L/J. Written for Halloween.


_For Chuck. I do not own Harry Potter. All rights reserved. _

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**Sitting Room, October 31st, 1981**

"When life gets tough, you either let it knock you down, or you become invincible."

That's what my mother used to say. If she were here she'd be telling me all sorts of encouragement. "Lily. Pick yourself up. You're my daughter. Be strong."

God, I wish she were here. I know I have to be strong now, more than ever but_.._. I want my mother. I really do.

Harry's getting bigger. He's got a few more teeth in, now, a couple in the back of his mouth. We know this because James decided to stick his finger back there and check, and got a nasty bite on his index from it, bless, but he just grinned and rubbed his finger like anything. He patted Harry on the head and told him he didn't need to worry about mummy taking him to some "daft tooth healer", as he so aptly put it. I swatted him on the arm but he just pulled me close and tried to touch me _in front of Harry_, the randy idiot. James says Harry's too young to notice anything out of the usual, but I hold a somewhat different opinion. Harry and those wide eyes of his...

James took me aside yesterday after Harry had gone down for a nap. He had a preoccupied look on his face, which I suppose shouldn't be too surprising, all things considered. But it didn't suit his features.

What surprised me were his words.

"I think we should consider the possibility of moving from Godric's Hollow."

His words hit me like a freight train. I stiffened in shock.

"What?" I whispered.

"We should think about getting out of the Hollow."

"Why?" I continued in a whisper. "James... What - what on earth brought this on?""

"It's just - just this place," said James. He was trying to appear casual, but I really didn't see the point in trying. He wanted to leave. He really did. "And my family's history with the village. It's too... inconspicuous."

"James-"

"And the neighborhood - c'mon Lil, there's nothing but senior citizens surrounding this cottage. If - when the Fidelius comes down, Harry'll have no one to play with but us. Doesn't that bother you?"

The look on his face portrayed something I've never really seen James display easily before. I first caught a glimpse of it during one of the Order meetings - Dumbledore had mentioned something about the Death Eaters taking captives to wheedle the blood traitors out of the war, and out of the corner of my eye I saw James' face. That was the first time.

And then when I told him, as tears where running down my cheeks, that I was pregnant. I was terrified; I wasn't prepared for more responsibility on my shoulders, let alone a small, delicate _life_. But I definitely wasn't prepared to see James look so...

Human.

"James," I said quietly. "What's this really about?"

"What d'you mean?"

"_Please_," I pleaded, "please don't do that with me. I asked a question. All I want is an answer."

James stared at me, his faced closed of emotion. But then he opened his mouth.

"I don't feel safe here."

Whatever I had thought he was going to say, that wasn't it. I was thinking along the lines of "I need excitement" or "this place is too dull". In my book, dull was good. Dull was preferred, actually. But he didn't feel _safe_?

"I don't think I understand," I said slowly.

"Lily, look me in the eye and tell me you actually feel safe in a cottage with a thatch roof."

"We're not safe _anywhere_, James."

This statement seemed to have struck a darker chord in James, judging by the look on his face, but it was true. We were hunted in every corner of Britain.

"Please, Lily," murmured James. There was a desperation in his voice that hadn't been there before, and this above all frightened me the most. I told him this.

"I don't want that," he said. "I don't want you to be frightened because of me."

"Then why are you asking me to move out of our home! We've lived here for nearly three months, James! That's the longest we've ever stayed in one location."

"Which is exactly why we should move, now."

"Harry can't grow up being moved from place to place."

"Harry _won't_ grow up if he isn't."

This pushed one button too many for me. "Fuck you," I hissed.

"That's fine," James said calmly. He had not lost him composure - yet. "You can be angry with me. But promise me you'll think about it, Lily. Promise me you will."

I stared. James was completely serious.

"Tell me why."

"_Lily_."

"No, tell me. I deserve to know why if I'm going to be considering it."

James pressed his mouth into a thin line, and I remember thinking back to the first time I saw him pursing his lips. At the time I had thought it hilarious that James and my sister shared a bad habit.

"I don't trust this place," he said finally. "I don't trust that Fidelius Charm."

"But you said it yourself, you trusted Peter with your life."

"Mine," James muttered. "Not his."

He had gestured upstairs to the nursery, where our baby was sleeping peacefully.

"I'm not going to lie, Lily," started James, "I used to trust Peter with anything. I used to trust Remus with anything. And you know I would trust Sirius with everything. That's how we were. That's how our friendship survived so long."

"... yes?" I prompted.

James glanced at me, eyes blazing. "But then we had Harry, and everything changed. I never thought that when I had children I would be forced to protect them from birth from murdering bastards, but here we are. And as much as I trust my mates, and as much as I love them..."

James leaned against the hallway wall, looking up towards Harry's door.

"As much as I love them, I am the father of another human being and I should be the one putting my life before his. Me. Not Sirius, not Peter, not Remus - me." He glanced back at me. "It's not a matter of pride, although I s'ppose that's a bit of it. It's a matter of knowing."

"Knowing?" I whispered.

"If they could die for my son or not."

"_James_," I croaked. "Let's not talk about this. Please. I can't take it anymore."

"I'm sorry," he said mutely. "I am. But I know I could do it."

"'it'?"

"Die for Harry." His gaze seemed to change from being distantly determined, to so, _so_ tender as it leveled on me. "Die for you."

I lost my ability to speak. He took the opportunity to wrap his arms gently around me and hold me close to his chest. He was comfortingly warm.

"I would," he whispered into my hair. "You know I would."

"Yes," I breathed. "You know I would too."

And we just sat there, holding each other. I don't remember the last time we did that before then. Before we reached Godric's Hollow, perhaps.

But it doesn't matter. I told James that I'd think about it - moving out of the Hollow, I mean. He's right. We need to stop depending on others to protect Harry's life - not that we're not grateful for them helping us, and we always will be - but we both know that no one could guard Harry better than the both of us.

I've told him to give me twenty-four hours to consider it, so maybe I should tell him tonight, after Harry's asleep. James is with him now, in the living room near the front of the house. He should be conjuring coloured smoke clouds for Harry's amusement.

Harry loves those.


End file.
